


club 27 has reached capacity

by endlessnighttimesky



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Drug Abuse, Hospitalization, M/M, Near Death Experiences, Overdosing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-03
Updated: 2014-05-03
Packaged: 2018-01-21 19:24:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1561316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/endlessnighttimesky/pseuds/endlessnighttimesky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Frank sees My Chem for the first time, standing on a chair at the back of a dingy bar with a cigarette between his fingers, he doesn't think he'll end up making a habit of crawling into the lead singer's bunk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	club 27 has reached capacity

**Author's Note:**

  * For [apolliades](https://archiveofourown.org/users/apolliades/gifts).



> A long, long time ago, Flora ([boy_princess](http://archiveofourown.org/users/boy_princess/pseuds/boy_princess)) and I came up with this idea, so at least half the credit/blame goes to them. We are perfectly aware of how depressing this plot is. We're sorry.
> 
> Title by Frank Iero.

When Frank sees My Chem for the first time, standing on a chair at the back of a dingy bar with a cigarette between his fingers, he doesn't think he'll end up making a habit of crawling into the lead singer's bunk. 

He's still got Pencey - has always had Pencey - but then, like any band with an ounce of self-respect would, they burn out, naturally and almost expected. Frank still spends an unholy amount of time moping, though, but he isn't really sure if it's actually Pencey he's sad about all. He feels a little lost without it, sure, but somehow he feels like he'd be more lost without My Chem, and he's not even in the goddamn band. It's weird, but he can't help it, can't help fearing that My Chem will go down the same road Pencey did, breaking up when they're just on the brink of fame.

Then Gerard comes over one day, and asks if he wants to be in the band, just like that, like there's nowhere else Frank would want to be. Frank says yes, because really, Gerard is right. He'll give him that. There isn't really any other band that would make sense, not after Pencey or Graveyard. And suddenly, he's the rhythm guitarist of My Chemical Romance, and everything is good again.

Perfection rarely lasts, though - Warped Tour teaches them as much. It's sweat and grime and weeks between showers, and then all you've got are water bags by a fence. There’s no glamour or comfort, but they get to play their music every night to kids who love them, and really, that’s all that matters.

They’ve got a bus now, though, which makes up for a lot of the shit. If it wasn't for Mikey spending almost more time with Fall Out Boy than with his own band, and Gerard being practically attached to Bert McCracken by the hip, it would be a lot worse, but Pete never lets Mikey out of his sight and Gerard has almost half his stuff on The Used's bus, so it works.

When Gerard does stay on their bus, though, Frank is right beside him, usually curled around him in either of their bunks, or cuddled up by his side while he draws in the lounge, or across from him with a book or his iPod when Gerard sits in the dinette. It doesn't matter where he is, really - Frank is next to him, all the time.

Gerard doesn't seem too bothered, and if he is, he doesn't show it. He’s usually not sober enough to string together coherent sentences, anyway, so he might've already told him, just with words too slurred for Frank to understand. 

Frank would feel guilty about it, or just tell himself he's being an over-protective pain in the ass, but then it happens, and suddenly he can't make himself regret following Gerard around like a lost puppy.

They're on their way back to Jersey after the last day of the tour, having decided to drive it all in one stretch because they all just want to go home. Warped is like a constant party, and sure, it's fun, but it gets tiresome after a few weeks, so now they're on the I-95 heading for Belleville, where they'll be dropped off at their respective houses to sleep for a week straight.

Gerard stumbled onto the bus long after their set ended, hand in hand with Bert and wasted out of his mind. Bert got off the bus before they pulled out of the lot, but with the smell that lingers he might as well have stayed.

It's the middle of the night now, and Gerard is in his bunk with Frank wrapped around him, clinging to Gerard as if he could somehow absorb all the chemicals rushing through his blood. If he could, he would - there aren’t many things Frank wouldn't do for Gerard, if any - but he can't, so he settles with acting as a human pillow, letting Gerard pull him close and hold him there even if he smells like vomit and sweat.

When he puts his hand over Gerard's heart, he doesn't think twice about it - Gerard is flat on his back and Frank is sort of curved around his side, making it the most logical place to put it. But then they fall asleep, and when Frank wakes up, his hand is still over Gerard's heart, meaning he can feel the way it beats, quicker than it ever has or ever should.

He's warmer, too, almost burning to the touch, and he's sweating like crazy, and when Frank pulls his eyelids up his pupils are huge, and Frank calls out, "Mikey!" before he can even think twice.

He hears Mikey jumping out of the bunk above, and then in his regular monotone he says, "Fuck, Frank, it's the middle of the fucking night, what do you - " The curtain is pulled away and Mikey's voice isn't flat anymore, just straight-up terrified. "Oh my God."

"He's overdosing," Frank says, stumbling over the words in his hurry to get them out. He’s read about this - spent late nights on the computer, going through Wikipedia entry after Wikipedia entry, because while he did want to take Gerard’s word for it when he said he could handle it, he couldn’t help wanting to be prepared, should anything ever happen. He never talked to anyone about it, but he's sure the guys would understand him, especially now.

"Tell John to drive to the nearest hospital," Frank says. "Fucking - now, Mikey, go!"

Mikey scurries off, and meanwhile Ray and Bob help carry Gerard out of the bunk, laying him gently on the floor while Frank tips his head back so he won't choke. He's still breathing, thank God, so there's no need for CPR. At least not yet. Frank shudders at the thought. He couldn't - no. He's not going to think about it. At all. Because it's not going to happen. He won't let it. Gerard - they need him. Frank needs him. He can't go, not yet, and not over something this stupid. Frank won't allow it.

Ray calls 911 while John takes a sharp left turn, rattling everything inside the cupboards and making Frank loose his balance, the back of his skull colliding with the edge of the dinette table. He barely feels it - adrenaline is pumping through his veins, keeping him alert, or he would've passed out from pure fucking fear long ago.

Bob sits opposite to Frank on the floor, one arm over Mikey's shoulders, holding him to his side. Mikey is sobbing quietly, the only indication the little irregular hitches in his breath and the stains on Bob's t-shirt. 

Ray is by Gerard's feet, eyes huge and hopeless, like a little kid. Frank finds it fucking terrifying, because Ray has always been the one who's got his shit together, no matter how much everyone around him is freaking out. Now, though, he's just as clueless as the rest of them, and if that's not the scariest thing in the world, Frank doesn't know what is.

Except he does, because his best friend and maybe boyfriend is dying in front of his eyes, and there's not a single thing he can do but wait until they reach the hospital. And be happy Gerard isn't really conscious because the grip Frank has on his hand would probably make him cry out in agony. Though he’d just prefer it if he didn't have to hold his hand so hard at all.

The bus comes to a violent stop outside the emergency entrance of whatever hospital they're at, almost knocking them all onto their sides. Nurses race inside, basically having to pry Frank off Gerard, and in the middle of the chaos Frank can't help but wonder why Mikey isn't having a fucking panic attack or something, why he isn't fighting, why he's just sitting there crying silently like his brother isn't convulsing right before his eyes. It makes Frank want to scream at him, but he knows that would only make things worse, so he just lets the nurses take Gerard away, strap him onto a stretcher and roll him inside, disappearing into the maze of sterile corridors.

"Frank." Someone is talking to him, touching his shoulder, tugging at his arms until he's curled up in the dinette instead of the floor. He knows he should go inside, sit by Gerard's bed, take his hand and not let go until he opens his eyes, but his legs feel like they would give in should he try to stand up.

Blinking through watery eyes, Frank sees Ray, hunched over the table across from him. He looks like Frank feels - miserable and terrified. Lost. It's worse than any horror movie Frank has ever seen.

"Do you want to go inside?" Ray asks, and he's whispering, like Frank is a startled animal, or a confused child. He feels a little like both.

_No_ , Frank wants to say, but he bites his tongue and nods instead, getting up from the couch and letting Ray lead the way to the front desk and then the room Gerard’s in, because Frank didn’t listen when the nurse told them the number, or even the floor.

Everything is hazy until they reach Gerard's room, and then suddenly everything is painfully clear, stark and contrasting like Gerard's black hair against the white pillow stuffed beneath his head. It stings Frank's eyes, makes them water again, but he wipes the sleeve of his hoodie over his face before he starts to cry.

It's scary, seeing Gerard look so vulnerable. _Tiny_ and _fragile_ aren't words Frank would ever associate with Gerard, but his mind makes the connection all on its own, because that's what Gerard looks like right now, unconscious and drowning in a hospital gown, half of his face hidden behind an oxygen mask, the needles in his skin covered by medical tape and gauze.

Feeling a little like his legs are going to give out again, Frank lifts a chair off the stack in the corner and sits down next to Mikey, who's curled up in an armchair as close to Gerard's bed as he can get, spindly fingers stroking restlessly over the back of his brother's hand.

A nurse comes in a few minutes later - or hours, Frank doesn't really know - to check up on Gerard, asking Frank what his relationship to the patient is. He answers, "Boyfriend," without even considering it. Mikey doesn't bat an eye, and the nurse just nods. So it's that obvious, then.

Frank isn't sure how long they sit there, in complete silence, just watching, waiting. Ray comes inside a few times, as does Bob, and Brian. Nobody says a thing, at least not while in the room. Frank can hear them talking in the hallway, hushed tones and whispers, as if anything louder would wake Gerard. As if that’s not exactly what they all want - for Gerard to wake up, open his eyes, fucking say something and prove to them that he’s alive.

"Frank," someone says, but it's not the right voice, so Frank ignores it, not bothering to open his eyes. His mind is a haze and he’s not really aware of his surroundings, just the immediate contact of his head on someone’s shoulder and something poking him in the ribs. He tries to squirm away from what he supposes is a finger, eyes still closed, but then another voice cuts in, hoarse and weak.

”Frankie."

Finally, Frank opens his eyes, and there he is.

"Gee?" Frank is completely aware of how stupid he sounds, but he just has to reassure himself, has to make sure this is real. Then he leans forward, touching his fingers to Gerard's twitching ones, and he knows.

Frank vaguely registers Mikey mumbling something and leaving the room, but he doesn't pay attention, unable to focus on anything but Gerard. Gerard, who's alive, whose eyes are open and whose hand is gripping Frank's tight, clenching as if he too has to make sure that this isn't just a dream.

"Fuck," Frank curses, unable to help himself. They got him early, he knows that, and he wasn't alone - but the fear was still there, lingering in the back of Frank's head, the possibility... "We were so fucking scared," he says, because this isn't just about him, isn't just about Gerard. It's about all of them, and Gerard knows that - it's visible in his eyes, the guilt, the shame. They’re watery, like Frank’s, but not glazed over anymore, not dark with the haze of alcohol and cocaine and God knows what else, and Frank sees that as a victory. A small one, perhaps, but a victory nonetheless.

Gerard is quiet, eyes closed again, but his thumb is rubbing over the back of Frank's hand, letting him know he's awake. Alive. He doesn't try to excuse himself, doesn't apologize, doesn't even explain. He just keeps stroking Frank's hand with his fingers, then tugs a little, mumbling, "C'mere."

And Frank goes, because he doesn't want an excuse, an apology or even an explanation. He already knows how the demons inside Gerard's head look like, has seen them in his eyes the few times he's been there while Gerard crashes, shaking and sweating in Frank's embrace. They don't talk about it, because there's nothing to be said - Frank knows, and Gerard knows that he knows, and the other guys all know, too. It's just a matter of Gerard having the strength to fight off the monsters, or at least the will, and without the help of illegal substances this time. And, maybe, just maybe, someone who'll be beside him while he does.

When Mikey comes back, with the rest of the guys trailing after him, Gerard is still curled up in Frank's arms on the hospital bed, head rising and sinking in time with Frank's breaths. No one says anything about it, and honestly, Frank is a little surprised. He didn't really have the energy to care about Mikey's reaction when he told the nurse he was Gerard's boyfriend, and he'd sort of figured that if there had been even one time where Gerard was sober enough to notice Frank beside him in his bunk, he would've told Mikey about it already.

He wasn't so sure about Bob and Ray, though, or Brian. If he and Gerard would gather them all in the lounge on day and announce that they’re boyfriends, they would probably just remind them that the no-sex-on-the-bus rule still applied, and _please, don’t make out in front of us_. Brian would made them promise not to let it affect the band, should it end badly, but he'd be happy for them, and he'd say so before telling them to fuck off and go do soundcheck.

But that's not how it happened, because here they are, in a hospital room in who knows what town, Gerard just a few hours past teetering on the brink of death. Though, maybe that's better, Frank can't help but think, because they're all so relieved that no one really cares if their lead singer and rhythm guitarist are fucking or not. Because Gerard is alive - Frank can’t stop repeating it in his mind, _alive, alive, alive_ \- and in this moment, that’s the only thing that matters.


End file.
